Temp title #1337

Several Months later, several borders and a new continent away. “May I get you anything else?” Looking up, my eyes locking onto the waitresses, she squirms under my gaze, unable to break away. “uhh…sir?” Fidgeting more, she scurries off when I break my gaze from hers.

Shaking my head, I slowly sip the same coffee I had ordered an hour again. Surfing the internet for news and jobs. “When will they come after me again…” I mutter under my breath. Checking my bank account I cringe, having very few funds left after escaping to America, having burned down a large part of Russia. Shaking my head I can’t help but think that it’s so hard to convince anyone that I actually am from Russia until I show them my papers. My parents were Americans who moved there for their job. Which as I know today, was just a cover up for their true actions. “Damned mages…” downing the rest of my coffee, I get up and go to pay my bill